


Blood Burns Eternal

by SeveredWing



Category: Castlevania Lords of Shadow と 宿命の魔鏡 | Castlevania: Lords of Shadow & Mirror of Fate
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragon(s) - Freeform, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Lords of Shadow 2, Magic, Male-Female Friendship, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeveredWing/pseuds/SeveredWing
Summary: Having vanquished his enemies, new foes rise up to challenge the newly-awakened Prince of Darkness: a deadly dragon and a second chance at love.
Relationships: Gabriel Belmont | Dracula & Original Female Character, Gabriel Belmont | Dracula/Original Female Character(s), Trevor Belmont | Alucard & Original Female Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Blood Burns Eternal

1747 anno Domini. Autumn solstice. Full moon. Two travellers of unique origins journey through dark and ancient forests towards a village deep in the mountains of Europe. Swept clean by smallpox a century earlier, it has been forgotten by man, reclaimed by nature and the elements. The homes stand dilapidated, the timber frames rotted through, walls cracked open or fallen to lie amongst the wooden beams and shingles from roofs brought down by neglect and harsh winters. Remnants of peasant life have been reduced to rubble, their surfaces worn and eaten away by time. The bleached bones of livestock lie in corrals littered with fallen leaves, detritus, and fungi, the barns' walls remaining erect by an intricate net of climbing vegetation. The workshops surrounding the marketplace fare no better than house and barn. The sellers' stalls now serve as homes for all manner of creature whether it slithers, scurries, or takes wing. The road into the village, once bustling with trade, is now reduced to a mere path lined with ferns with broad fronds and fragrant wildflowers that scent the air. This once thriving hamlet, nestled in the foothills of towering peaks, overlooking a mountain lake, has not welcomed a traveller into its tavern or offered a night's rest at its inn since a bygone age. Now, by the light of the moon, two riders wind their way towards their final destination; the ruins of the village's church and the sarcophagus that lies in the crypt below.

The remains of the church stand at the west end of the marketplace, its crumbling façade facing east towards the rising sun. The riders rein in their horses and dismount at the foot of the stone steps leading to the church's arched portal and the heavy oaken doors recessed within. They remove their cloaks in turn, revealing a young man and woman. The young man wears the dark leather garb and gear of a ranger from the wildlands. The woman is outfitted in lamellar armour, form-fitting leather plates laced together over a leather and linen tunic, close-fitting pants, and cuissardes. They might appear like any other travellers coming in from rough country save for the remarkable features that each individual possesses. The young man is striking in appearance. Tall and muscular of build, his skin is as pale as white alabaster, his complexion matched only by his lush head of hair, falling about his shoulders and back, shining like pristine snow alit by the sun. To look into his lupine eyes, is to peer at the predatory beauty of a wolf. To be close enough to see the points of his fangs, is to see your death. 

The young woman appears to be quite ordinary compared to her traveling companion, but appearances can be deceiving. Her hair is the colour of rich, fertile earth, swept back and gathered at the nape of her neck where it is divided into several long braids bound into sections by silver bands. Her narrow brow, small chin, and high cheekbones lend a diamond shape to her face. Her narrow nose is ideally proportioned and her bow-shaped lips give her a natural pout. But her most stunning feature is her eyes. Clear and cold, they are the colour of blue glaciers floating freely in arctic seas. Where the young man's prominence lies in his preternaturality, the young woman's distinction lies in her beauty and its power to take a person's breath away. 

The young man climbs the steps and approaches the entrance to the church. The solid doors hang at odd angles, pulled from their frames, the wood splintered from years of exposure, the iron hinges rusted through. After a good push, they give way easily, crashing into the underbrush thriving under a mature oak tree rooted in the church's narthex. With their way open to them, he turns to the young woman.

"Let's bring them in." They walk to a spare horse laden with three unconscious men, their hands and feet secured by rope, their mouths gagged with knotted rags. Dark patches of congealing blood mat their hair as the night's breeze sloughs dried red flakes from their skin. The young man lifts the first body and drapes it around the young woman's shoulders like a shepherd carrying a spring lamb to slaughter. He hoists the second body over his shoulder then gives the last one a good yank, letting it slide from the horse's back into a heap at his feet. He seizes the body by its collar and drags it through dirt and debris as he and the young woman make their way towards the church. Once at the threshold, he takes the lead. The young woman pauses, glancing upwards at the angels in the tympanum, blaring their horns and wielding their swords against the onslaught of demons released from the pits of hell. Enemies forever frozen in battle. She finds it an ominous scene to greet parishioners with on the Lord's Day, or any day, for that matter.

"Lumi?" She starts at the sound of his voice. 

"Yes. Sorry, Alucard." She walks through the entry and into the dense foliage that has reclaimed the interior of the church, struggling through bramble and bush until she falls into step behind him. They reach the church's chancel. Alucard drops his unconscious charges to remove an obstruction in their path; several fallen beams deliberately placed to conceal a narrow stairway sunken into the floor. With seemingly little effort, he lifts each beam and tosses them towards the altar. Free to proceed, he descends into a short corridor ending with a single door made of mahogany. Protected from the elements, it retains much of its structural integrity, but most importantly, the locking mechanism is still in working order.

"Bring them down." Lumi lets the man drop from her shoulders, his body rolling across the stone floor, unimpeded by weed and root, to tumble down the stone steps. He lands at the bottom of the stairs with a sickening thud. She drags the other two men down the stairs one at a time and leaves them in a pile next to their fellow countryman. Losing the moonlight, Lumi pulls a torch from a wall sconce and lights it with her iron and flint, its warm radiance casting severe shadows over flesh, wood, and stone. She walks down the corridor to join Alucard awaiting her at the door. He produces a wrought iron key on a chain from around his neck and slides it into the keyway. He turns it. They listen to metal grind against metal as the obstructive wards align with the key's profile, then a final clank as the lock is disengaged. With a forceful shove, the door creaks open and the torch's glow reveals a vaulted crypt. Unlike the rest of the ruins, the chamber remains intact, untouched by time and the forces that ravaged the village above. The columns supporting the ceiling stand in shadow, sentinels in wait, silently guarding what lies at the center of the crypt, a sarcophagus. Alucard takes the torch from Lumi and steps into the room. He walks towards the structure to stand at its side. The lid of the sarcophagus lies on the floor, leaving the body inside exposed to the stale air. A large sword has been plunged through its chest, the hilt jutting from the stone coffin. 

Lumi does not enter the crypt, but waits in the corridor with the bodies. Alucard's instructions are clear. Close the door behind him and wait until he gives her permission to enter. Reluctantly, she does as he asks, retreating to the stairs to rest on one of the steps. One of the men moans, his body stirring, threatening to regain consciousness. She gives him a swift blow to his head with the toe of her boot and he stills. Lumi waits. She waits and muses on how she came to meet her companion, how she came to be here with him in an abandoned church opened to heaven's starry skies. It was only a year ago that he rescued her from men with evil intentions. 

****

**/\/\/\/\/\**

Incapacitated and shackled in the back of a converted war wagon, Lumi is unable to witness the fight put forth by her captors, but she can listen to it and the sounds reaching her ears are both short in duration and gruesome in nature. Cries of bravado turn to sounds of men choking on their own blood. She never gets to see the aftermath. By the time she has regained her senses, he has her leagues away. Camped out in a wood, sheltered by the outstretched branches of a beech tree, she is lying on a bedroll basking in the heat of a crackling fire. She thinks she is alone until a disembodied voice speaks from the shadows.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Do you have any idea who those men were?"

"I have an idea, yes."

"Why did they target you?"

"I'll not answer any more questions until I see who my inquisitor is." He steps out into the firelight. 

She does not scream and flee blindly into the dark woods or cower like a helpless maiden. She does not look for a makeshift weapon to protect herself or to attack. All would be folly. She merely stands and takes a step towards him. Before he can stop her, she thrusts her arm into the fire. Immediately, the skin on her hand and forearm dissolves into sparks revealing scales so black they shimmer dark blue. Her nails elongate and curve into razor sharp claws. She manipulates the fire into the palm of her hand then pulls it from the blaze. He watches in awe as the flame slithers and coils up her arm like a serpent charmed by music only she can play. 

"Those men were dragon hunters and they targeted me because I am a dragon." She clenches her hand into a fist, snuffing out the fire with a sharp hiss. Her human characteristics return. 

"You rescued me?" she asks. 

"Yes."

"Then I am indebted to you." 

"That is unnecessary."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"That is very gracious of you, but I insist on being in your service until I have repaid my debt."

"There is nothing on this earth that can harm me. I am immortal."

"Then our acquaintance shall be a lengthy one. My kind have lived from time immemorial. There are some who roam this world that have been here since the dawn of man. I cannot boast of living so many millennia, but I am no youngling either."

"Is there nothing I can say that will sway you?"

"No."

"Then it is best that I know your name, yes?" 

"Lumi. And you?"

"Alucard."

"Thank you for saving my life, Alucard."

"You are most welcome, Lumi."

****

**/\/\/\/\/\**

A dragon's advantages during a hunt are its heightened sense of smell and keen vision, both ranging in distances far greater than any other apex predator. Their sense of hearing is similarly extraordinary, but not on the level of sight and scent. A dragon is more inclined to smell your body's odour or see the dust cloud kicked up by a galloping horse than hear the beast's hooves beating against the dirt road. In her current situation, however, Lumi is not leagues from her prey or point of interest. The door to the crypt stands two meters away. Through the mahogany she can hear Alucard draw the sword from the body and sheathe it in an ornate scabbard that has hung empty from his hip for as long as she has known him. She can hear Alucard speaking to himself or the body, she does not know.

"It's done. Father will wake in a few hours. It will not take long for Zobek to feel his presence and seek him out. I am ready. Now it's your turn." Father?! That man in the coffin is his father?! At the start of their journey, Alucard told her they were going to retrieve his sword. He failed to mention it was run through a body or that the body belonged to his father. And what does he mean he will awake in a few hours? And who is Zobek? So many questions she doubts she'll receive direct answers to should she approach him now. Though, if she has learned anything about Alucard, he doesn't mince words. He speaks from his heart and Lumi likes that about him. She need only wait. She is sure the answers are forthcoming. 

They have a few hours. Too long to be sitting on stone steps. Lumi stands and stretches her arms overhead, arching her back, her fingertips brushing against the sticky filaments of webs long abandoned by the spiders that spun them. She pauses to look at the door, then ascends the stairs. The moment the cool air tickles her nose, she breathes deeply, glad to be out in the open. Lumi is a mountain dragon. She is accustomed to the wide spaces of mountain ranges. Confinement unsettles her, even if it is temporary. On nights where the heavens open and lightning and thunder are constant, they are forced to take shelter in an inn or tavern. Alucard will throw enough coin on the counter for two rooms, though they often must settle for sharing one. For the next twelve hours, until dawn and sleep, Lumi will fidget and pace, roaming the room like a caged beast waiting for her opportunity to escape. 

She hears the hinges creak and moan as they bear the weight of the door, and soon Alucard is standing beside her. She chances a look at him. Though his face may look as unyielding as chiseled marble to an outsider, Lumi has had a year to learn his emotional nuances, and she feels unease at what she sees. Before her is an otherwise composed individual looking apprehensive, a man undaunted by monster or man now glancing nervously back at the entrance to the crypt. Is it his father? Is he concerned he will not awaken? Or does he fear what will happen when he does? Should Lumi be afraid as well? Is Alucard the one responsible for driving the sword through his father's heart? Who is his father? These are questions Lumi needs to ask before the hours pass by and it is too late. 

"Alucard?"

"Yes?"

"Who is in the sarcophagus?" 

"My father, Gabriel Belmont."

"Belmont? You...you are a Belmont?"

"My given name is Trevor. I took the name Alucard when my father made me a vampire."

"Belmont...Gabriel Bel-" Lumi's eyes widen as she instinctively takes a step back away from the stairs, away from Alucard.

"Your father is the Prince of Darkness?!"

"Yes. Lumi, I-"

"The vampire Death and the Devil do not dare to challenge?! Who cower in their kingdoms for fear of his power?!" She continues to back away, one measured step at a time, until her heel meets the unyielding surface of a stone column fallen amongst the greenery.

"Lumi, please. Let-"

"So, the men we brought with us-" She looks towards the stairwell. Her brow furrows, she closes her eyes, presses her lips together, and shakes her head, understanding dawning on her like the harsh light of morning breaking over the horizon. 

"They are for your father. Not you." 

"Yes."

"And you are telling me all this now?! On the verge of his resurrection?! You have had weeks to tell me since we left the castle! And what of the opportunities before our journey! Hunting in your wood, reading in the library, sparring in the entrance hall, stargazing from the observation tower, need I go on?"

"Would you have traveled this far with me if you knew where we were going? Who we were going to release back into the world?" 

"Yes! And do you know why? Because you would have been honest with me!" Lumi seats herself on the column and drops her head to her chest, releasing a sigh expressing both her frustration and acquiescence. Alucard steps forward and sits down next to her.

"I was hesitant to tell you my family name and vampiric origins for fear you would despise me."

"I cannot despise you. I no longer view you as an acquaintance, Alucard. I see you as my friend." In a rare display of sentiment, he smiles at her.

"And I you, Lumi. Will you forgive me?"

"On one condition."

"Which is?"

"No more secrets. No more withholding information, no matter if it serves in the best interest of the other. The truth I can reconcile. Half-truths and lies I cannot." She holds out her hand.

"Do we have an agreement? You and I?" He slips his hand into hers. 

"Most assuredly." They give one another a firm clasp, sealing their promise, before letting go. 

"You know," begins Lumi, "if this altercation had occurred early on, when we still regarded one another as little more than strangers, I might have killed you for your deceitfulness." Alucard chuckles.

"You could have tried."

"You have not beheld me in my true form. I could easily devour you."

"Then it is fortunate that my error in judgment happened now, when we are friends."

"It is." Lumi beams up at him, a smile already so familiar to him. A smile that endears you to its bearer and breeds a deep, abiding trust. A smile he hopes to be gifted with for many years to come. 

"How long do you imagine we will have to wait?" she asks.

"I don't know. Father has been in a deep sleep for centuries. His body is frail, weak. It may take until morning, or he could wake within the hour." Alucard looks her in the eyes, his face taking on a solemnity reserved for family farewells, not reunions. 

"When he does, remember my instructions. Do not enter the crypt until I tell you, no matter what you hear." 

"But, Alucard, what if you need-" 

"Lumi! I do not wish to relive this conversation with you again."

"But I am here to be of service! Let me-"

"No! You must promise me under no circumstances will you enter!" There is a charged pause between them with nothing but the nocturnes of night creatures to fill the air. 

"Very well." Placing a hand on the leather gauntlet strapped around his forearm, she looks up at him, her expression showing the depth of her intent and sincerity. "Forgive me my boldness. Of course, I will wait for your command." Alucard covers her hand with his.

"Thank you." 

"Now, how shall we pass the time?"

"I sense you all ready have something in mind." 

"Yes. A story. Tell me how we came to be here."

"There are not enough hours left in the night to begin that tale. I will tell you one day. Soon."

"Tell me, then, about your sword." Alucard stands and unsheathes his weapon. Cradling the grip and blade in open palms, he holds it out to Lumi whose wide eyes regard it with child-like fascination. 

"It is the Crissaegrim. I forged it myself. Many centuries ago, my father fought against the Lords of Shadow as a knight of the Brotherhood of Light. A fragment of his combat cross, the Vampire Killer, broke off when he drove it into the heart of a powerful vampire named Carmilla. I used that fragment to forge the sword."

"How did you come by the fragment?"

"I found it in my father's castle after the first time I engaged him in combat." Lumi's attention snaps from the Crissaegrim to Alucard, eyes still wide with wonderment.

"You fought against your father?! When? Wh-" Despite her need to know more, Lumi cuts herself short, her hearing detecting the rasp of desiccated lungs and scrape of nails against stone. She is not the only one. Alucard sheathes his sword and disappears so swiftly, all that remains of his company is a whirling current of dried leaves, rustling branches, and an afterimage of bat wings blurred together in flight. Lumi's heart begins to race. His father has awakened.

Lumi leaps down the stairs in time to catch a glimpse of fingers, withered and discoloured from decay, curling over the edge of the sarcophagus. They are wrapped in tattered cloth and their black nails, once tapered to fine points, are blunt and cracked. An ornate dragon's claw fashioned out of of silver, now tarnished with age, covers its ring finger. Any further glimpses are curtailed by Alucard blocking her view before closing the door between them. Now all Lumi can do is wait. She gives the pile of bodies a kick or two before ascending the stairs to take up her seat on the column. Though she tries to direct her attentions elsewhere, she can hear Alucard's voice and the gasping breaths of a man who has not felt chill night air bite at his throat or fill his lungs for hundreds of years. No, this isn't right, she thinks. Whether I am intending to or not, I am intruding on a private moment between father and son. 

Lumi rises and makes her way back to the horses. She sits down on the stone steps, closes her eyes, and focuses her hearing on the night song: the unmistakable chirp of crickets, the pulsing buzz of katydids, the protracted hoot of an owl, tiny paws scurrying over leaves and twigs. Anything that will drown out the dialogue that still reaches Lumi's ears.

"Remember? Remember our pact, father?" The voice that answers Alucard is not a raspy whisper from years of disuse, but neither is it bold and robust. It is smooth, soft, and pleasing to the ear.

"I remember it well...son."

"No! How can this be?!" The panic in Alucard's voice is undeniable. Something is wrong. Something unforeseen, but crucial to the implementation of the pact set in motion centuries ago; a pact sealed not by words of fellowship and the joining of hands, but by a sword thrust through a father's heart and a son's promise of resurrection and reunion. Lumi rises from the steps and enters the church, stopping short in the narthex. She lets her head drop back to stare up at the night sky, asking the heavens to bestow calm where there is restlessness and purpose where there is futility. When her stars fail to fall and her wishes are not granted, she turns and exits the building. She chooses, instead, to pace at the foot of the stairs. As time passes, her disquiet grows, her hands ball into fists, and her steps quicken. Her human composure wanes and her dragon eyes bleed through their human disguise. The horses sense the presence of danger and become skittish, their hooves stomping divots in the dirt, their snorts clouding the air around their muzzles. They jerk their heads hard at the reins tethered to a nearby hitching post. The commotion snaps Lumi from her distracted thoughts and she approaches them slowly with her hands outstretched. 

"Shhh. It's all right. It's all right. I'm sorry. Don't be afraid, please." The horses cease their pacing, but they continue to hold their heads high, eyes fixed on Lumi. 

"Shh. Forgive me." She slips her left hand under her horse's mane, stroking down its throat to its shoulder while gripping the bridle with her right, coaxing the beast to lower its head. 

"Shh. That's it. Nice and easy. I won't hurt you." With a little patience and words spoke in soothing tones, the horses eventually settle. They snort and whinny, give their manes a shake and rattle their tack. Crisis averted, Lumi retreats to the church steps and sits down. It has been many years since she has let her true self break through without her bidding. She's unnerved. As stars disappear into the West and the horizon brightens in the East, time brings her closer to meeting Alucard's father. Dracul. Dracula. The dragon. Lumi has never feared any beast, not even man with all his guile and trickery. She is a mountain dragon. The largest of her kind, blessed with the primordial magic of the Creators and the fire of a thousand suns pulsing around her heart. And yet...

"Lumi." Alucard's voice passes through earth and stone to reach her as clearly as if it was spoken in open air. She jumps to her feet and rushes into the church. Charging down the flattened path of broken branches and crushed leaves, she stops dead at the top of the sunken stairs, her heart beating hard against her chest. The bodies at the bottom are gone. She takes a deep breath and descends. An odour of death and decay that was not previously present now lingers in the closed space, undoubtedly wafting from the open doorway at the end of the corridor. The glow of torchlight burns brighter than before, lighting the crypt in flickering shades of gold and amber. Suppressing her animal instincts, Lumi proceeds down the hall. She stops at the entrance to the crypt. Standing beside the sarcophagus, facing his father, is Alucard. At his feet are the remains of the men they brought with them, their skin ashen and shriveled, their eyes sunken into their sockets. But it is to Alucard's left that Lumi's eyes are drawn last and longest. Standing with blood smeared around his mouth and lips, is Dracula. 

Bare-chested and barefoot, he is wearing a long skirt sewn of layered fabric, wrapped high on his waist. A handcrafted sash of leather and cloth holds the garment in place and a silver clasp in the shape of a humanoid bat skull fastens it together. On his forearms are silver gauntlets covered in frayed linen wrappings bound to his elbow on his right arm and high on his bicep on his left arm. The stringy strands of dull grey hair that crowned the body in the coffin have been restored to lush lengths of silky black. His skin, cleansed of rotting flesh, is pure white, as pale and smooth as treasured sea pearls from warm southern waters. His body, no longer frail and decrepit, has returned to its magnificent build, tall and muscular. Like father, like son. His scarlet eyes, shining bright red from the infusion of new blood, stare at Lumi. She loathes how she feels under his penetrating gaze. Though dragons possess mental acuity and perception exceptional to humans, eons of evolutionary instinct scream at her to flee, to deny reason and run. Even in his weakened state, her animal senses tell her he is a superior predator. Alucard senses her unease and breaks the silence.

"Lumi, we need to prepare the crypt for sleep. Please remove the bodies and place them somewhere discreet. We will dispose of them when we wake."

"Of course, Alucard." Grabbing a fistful of ragged garment, she lifts the nearest corpse over her shoulder, its arms swaying to brush and bounce against her back as she stoops to grab a second corpse by its coat collar. Focused on her task, she leaves through the mahogany door, climbs to the surface, and drops the bodies near the altar. She returns to the crypt for the last body. As she hoists it onto her shoulder, Alucard approaches her.

" I need you to bring the horses into the church. Tether them near the fallen column where the grass is lush. Leave them saddled in case we need to make an unexpected escape." Lumi does not take kindly to being ordered around, no matter who is doing the delegating. Had they been on their own, she would have politely made her grievance known, but with his father only meters away, listening to every word, well...She makes sure to keep her tone neutral and nonprovocative. 

"Anything else?"

"We will need our bedding, along with the spare bedroll off of your horse." 

"I will not be long." She chances a glance at Dracula to see his attention firmly on her, spurring her to hasten her exit from the crypt. As she takes her last step into the chancel, she hears Alucard resume the conversation with his father. 

"We must do something now. We cannot wait until we return to the castle."

"He cannot sense me from so great a distance. That is why you hid me here, is it not?"

"Yes, but much can change over the span of time. I doubt he has been idle in his reclusion. He may have grown in strength since your last encounter. We can't take the risk. If he is to discover our plan-"

"-he will destroy you and I." Lumi detects a steady rhythm of soft scrapes from fine grains of sand grating against stone. Footsteps walking back and forth. Given the gentle sound as opposed to the sharp report of a boot's heel, she deduces it is Dracula pacing restlessly, not Alucard. The thought of them both reminds Lumi of the caged lions and tigers of Rome's Colosseum. She smiles at the memory as she lays the body next to his brethren and heads down the path towards the church entrance. A light wind swirls within the church walls, the night chill now gone, chased away by the warmth of the morning's rays. Their words surround her, carried on its current.

"There is nothing of use to us here," he says. 

"You are wrong, Father." Dracula stills.

"What do you mean?"

"Lumi." She freezes at the sound of her name.

"It is she who I believe will be our saviour."

"How so?"

"Lumi is a dragon. A mountain dragon, to be more precise, and it is her magic that I believe can protect our memories from Zobek." 

"I will ask again. How? By casting a spell?" Lumi bristles. She is not a witch. She does not need to call on the power of magic with arcane languages and concoctions made of roots and herbs. Her magic is a part of her, no different than her fire.

"No. With her blood."

**Author's Note:**

> I admit my first introduction into Castlevania was the Netflix series. It was not until my son put on the video of all the cutscenes from Lords of Shadow that I took notice of the games. I was intrigued. I immediately went and purchased LoS and LoS2. I bought the artbook. I watched the DLCs on YouTube. I fell in love with Gabriel and his story. I'm sure once I have had the pleasure of playing the other games, I will fall even more in love with the Castlevania world. For now, though, I need to finish Lords of Shadow. Daily life, health issues, art courses, and writing tend to get in the way. So, if I do not post chapters at regular intervals, please forgive me. Just know that I will not let this story languish. It will just take time.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are _always_ welcome. All I ask is that you be kind. If you do not like my story, I would rather you simply moved on to another that you will enjoy.
> 
> Lastly, this story could not have been written without the support of my muse, [isflamma](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/isflamma). It would also be remiss of me if I did not mention her contribution to this chapter. Thank you!


End file.
